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LIEBLER ^ COS 
PRODUCTION 




ROBERT HICHENS' 



photograph copyriyhud by .M 

ROBERT HICHENS 



Pholottraph by Sarvnv 

MADAME DE NAVARRO 
(Mary Anderson) 

Ine Garden <7/^ Allan 

Dramatized ty MR. HICHENS and a Collaborator 

Managing Director, GEORGE C. TYLER 

Play produced by HUGH FORD Scenery by GATES ^ MORANGE 

Scene Pbotos of tbe Play by Wbite Studio Biskra Pbotos by Ed-ward A. Morange 




^ T is not probable that the history of the American stage offers a parallel to the amount 
of time, the painstaking care, the labor of experts, and the sum of money expended in 
rj transforming the most celebrated of Robert Hichens' novels, "The Garden of Allah," 
into the most successful play of the present generation. As long ago as 1905 or 1906 
a woman celebrated throughout two continents as the most popular actress of her time, 
a woman who had had the wisdom to retire when her fame was at its zenith, urged 
Mr. Hichens to dramatize his famous book. The novelist refused, asserting that no 
producer whose work he knew would succeed in retaining the Oriental atmosphere that 
was the soul of the book, once "The Garden of Allah" was taken from between its covers and set up behind 
a theatre-curtain. The retired actress was persistent, nevertheless, and arranged a meeting between Mr. 
Hichens and Mr. Tyler, of the American firm of Liebler & Co. Mr. Tyler, also, realized the dramatic pos- 
sibilities of the novel, and promised a lavish production of the play, should it be written. It was some 
years, however, before Mr. Hichens finally consented to dramatize his book, providing that the famous 
actress should aid him in the work. This she agreed to do, stipulating, however, that she should remain 
anonymous in the undertaking. The programme of the finished play now bears the legend, "dramatized 
by Mr. Hichens and a collaborator." 

Early in 1909, the first draft of the manuscript of the play arrived in this country. From that day to 
the day of its first performance, at the Century, formerly the New Theatre, New York, on October 21st, 1911, 
the technical staff of Liebler & Co. was busy preparing the production of the play. One summer Mr. Tyler, 
accompanied by Mr. Hichens, Hugh Ford, stage-director, and Edward Morange, scenic artist, spent several 
months in the heart of the Desert of Sahara, photographing, sketching, and purchasing costumes and proper- 
ties that would help to convey the illusion of the East. 
The services of leaders in electrical and mechanical inge- 
nuity were enlisted. The famous actress who had helped 
write the play and the author himself came to America 
to assist at the rehearsals, real Arabs were imported 
for the mobs in the street and dance-hall scenes, a mira- 
culously realistic sand-storm devised, a splendid cast 
engaged, and the scenic artists given free rein, so that the 
scenes in the garden of the Count, the spots in and about 
the oasis-town of Beni-Mora (Biskra), and those in the great 
desert itself seem to breathe the spirit of Algeria, and "The 
Garden of Allah" proved the most magnificent spectacle 
that had ever been offered American or any other audiences. 




Fhe ,.roduc,ng 



in the desert 



Copyright, 1911, by Liebler ^ Co. 






The Garden o/^ Allah 



Xne Cnaracters and Scenes that Figure in this Marvelous Spectacle 

BORIS ANDROVSKY (Father Antoine) A Renegade Monk. 

Dr. PETER ANDROVSKY, his brother.. A Wealthy Physician Living in Tunis. 

DOMINI ENFILDEN An Englishwoman, Traveling in Algiers. 

SUZANNE Domini's Maid. 

FATHER ROUBIER Priest of the Roman Catholic Church in the Oasis- 
town of Beni-Mora. 

COUNT ANTEONl Dreamer and Philosopher 

CAPTAIN de TREVIGNAC of the French Troops Stationed in Algiers 

BATOUCH and HADJ Arabian Guides. 

THE SAND DIVINER An Arab Seer. 

LARBI The Flute-player. 

OUARDI An Arabian Servant. 

IRENA, TAMOUDA, and SELIMA Dancers of the Ouled Nail Tribe. 

A sheik, a waiter, Algerian Tirailleurs, Arabs, Kabyles, and Mozabites. 

THE PLAY 

The action of the play has been arranged in four parts and an epilogue. Of these parts the first, made 
up of five short scenes, is intended primarily to create an atmospheric setting for the drama, while it also 
starts the story on its way. It shows the flight of Father Antoine from the Trappist monastery at El Largani, 
where the monks have taken vows of eternal silence. It shows his arrival, an awkward, mysterious figure, 
unaccustomed to intercourse with fellow human beings, in the oasis-town of Beni-Mora, situated in the 
heart of the Desert of Sahara, and his meeting there with Domini Enfilden, a woman, who, after a life filled 
with storm and stress, has come to find calm in Allah's Garden. Between the two a love arises, which, 
in the second part of the drama, the scene of which is the lovely garden of a certain Count Anteoni living 
in Beni-Mora, so masters the reason of the apostate monk, that, despite his sin, he throws himself into the 
arms of the woman he has come to love. The two are married in the little church of Beni-Mora, and go out 
to live in the desert where they seem to find the peace they both have sought. For months they dwell 
apart from the world of men, when Domini realizes that their happiness is soon to be crowned by the advent 
of a child. One day, however, a sandstorm, vividly portrayed in the third part of the play, causes a party 
of travelers to lose its way and to stumble upon their encampment. Among these travelers is Count 
Anteoni. An unfortunate chain of circumstances leads him to discover the real identity of his host. Domini 
comes upon the men during a scene in which wild words are uttered and a weapon drawn, and though the 
Count leaves without telling her what he has learned, Boris himself confesses everything to her. Despite 
her realization of her impending motherhood, which she has concealed from Boris, she takes the only 
course open to her as a good Catholic, leading her husband back to the monastery from which he fled, and 
leaving him with but a word of hope that a kind providence would send her one to share her loneliness. 
A little lad playing in the sand in Count Anteoni's garden, five years later, in the epilogue, listening to the 
flute of the love-lorn Larbi, brings her some consolation for the great sacrifice she has made. 



u'v.^^^'^"^ 




■ hall ol thccale Ma 



The Garden 
I o f A 1 1 a li 

PART I 

SCENE I 

The Spirit of tlie Desert 

An attempt has been made to vis- 
ualize this intangible Spirit in 
three of its phases: its Vastness, 
its Element and Prayer. 




^ - 






Till now she had always thought that she loved mountains. The desert suddenly made them insignifi- 
cant, almost mean to her. She turned her eyes towards the flat spaces. It was in them that majesty lay — 
mystery, power, and all deep and significant things. Beyond was a tangle of palms where a tiny 
oasis sheltered a few native huts. At an immense distance, here and there, other oases showed as dark 
stains show on the sea where there are hidden rocks. And still farther away, on all hands, the desert seemed 
to curve up slightly like a shallow wine-hued cup to the misty blue horizon line, which resembled a faintly 
seen and mysterious tropical sea, so distant that its sultry murmur was lost in the embrace of the intervening 
silence. 

SCENE II 

Road leading from tne Monastery of El Largani 

Below were the lights of ships; the bright eyes of a lighthouse, the distant lamps of scattered vil- 
lages along the shores, and, very far off, a yellow gleam that dominated the sea beyond, and seemed 
to watch patiently all those who came and went, the pilgrims to and from Africa. That gleam 
shown in Carthage. 

SCENE III 

The Veranda of tlie Hotel du Desert, Beni-Mora, with Public Garden 

The peace of the soft evening was profound. Against the white parapet a small, round table and a 
cane arm-chair had been placed. A subdued patter of feet in slippers came up the stairway, and an 

Arab servant appeared with a tea-tray. He put it down on the table with the precise deftness which Domini 
had already observed in the Arabs, and swiftly vanished. She sat down in the chair and poured out the tea, 
leaning her left arm on the parapet. There were many sounds in the village, but they were vague, and 
mingled, flowing together and composing one sound that was soothing, the restrained and level voice of life. 



SCENE IV 

The Street of the Ouled Nails in Beni-Mora 

The Httle street, bright with the lamps of the small houses, from which projected wooden balconies 
painted in gay colors, and with the glowing radiance of the moon, was mysterious despite its gaiety, its 



obvious dedication to the cult of pleasure. Alive with the shrieking sounds of music, the movement and the 
murmur of desert humanity made it almost solemn. This crowd of boys and men, robed in white from 
head to heel, preserved a serious grace in its vivacity, suggested besides a dignified barbarity a mingling 
of angel, monk and nocturnal spirit. In the distance of the moonbeams, gliding slowly over the dusty road 
with slippered feet, there was something soft and radiant in their moving whiteness. Nearer, their pointed 
hoods made them monastical as a procession stealing from a range of cells to chant a midnight mass. 



SCENE V 

A Dancing House m tne Same Street 

The dancing woman had observed him, and presently she began slowly to wriggle towards him between 
the rows of Arabs, fixing her eyes upon him and parting her scarlet lips in a greedy smile. As she came on, the 
stranger evidently began to realize that he was her bourne. A dark flush rose on his face and even flooded 
his forehead to his low-growing hair. His eyes were full of a piteous anxiety and discomfort, and he glanced 
almost guiltily to right and left of him as if he expected the hooded Arab spectators to condemn his presence 
there now that the dancer drew their attention to it. The dancer noticed his confusion and seemed pleased 
by it, and moved to more energetic demonstrations of her art. She lifted her arms above her head, half 
closed her eyes, assumed an expression of languid ecstasy and slowly shuddered. Then, bending backward, 
she nearly touched the floor, swung round, still bending, and showed the long curve of her bare throat to the 
stranger, while the girls, huddled on the bench by the musicians, suddenly roused themselves and joined 
their voices in a shrill and prolonged twitter. The Arabs did not smile, but the deepness of their attention 
seemed to increase like a cloud growing darker. All the luminous eyes in the room were steadily fixed upon 
the man leaning back against the hideous picture on the wall and the gaudy siren curved almost into an arch 
before him. The musicians blew their hautboys and beat their tom-toms more violently, and all things, 
Domini thought, were filled with a sense of climax. 




Caravan from the Soudan entering Biskra 




The Garden 
of A 1 1 a k C 

PART II 




'ith seats, of Count Landon'f 
:rlooking the desert. Biskra 



1 Count Landon's Garden, Biskn 



SCENE 1 

Tte Garden of Count Anteoni 
Never before had she fully under- 
stood the enchantment of green, quite 
realized how happy a choice was made 
on that day of Creation when it was 
showered prodigally over the world. 
But now, as she walked secretly over 
the yellow sand between the rills, she 
rested her eyes, and her soul, on count- 
less mingling shades of the delicious 
color; rough, furry green of geranium leaves, silver green of olives, black green of distant palms from which 
the sun held aloof, faded green of the eucalyptus, rich, emerald green of fan-shaped, sunlit palms, hot 
sultry green of bamboos, dull, drowsy green of mulberry trees and brooding chestnuts. It was a choir of 
colors in one color, like a choir of boys all with treble voices singing to the sun. 

Gold flickered everywhere, weaving patterns of enchantment, quivering, vital patterns of burning beauty. 
Down the narrow, branching paths that led to inner mysteries the light ran in and out, peeping between the 
divided leaves of plants, gliding over the slippery edges of the palm branches, trembling airily where the 
papyrus bent its antique head, dancing among the big blades of sturdy grass that sprouted in tufts here 
and there, resting languidly upon the glistening magnolias that were besieged by somnolent bees. All the 
greens and all the golds of Creation were surely met together in this profound retreat to prove the perfect 
harmony of earth with sun. 




Sand diviner, the original of Mr. Hichens' character. Psafti. to the left, the hero of Mr. Hichens' story. " Psafti's 
Summer's Day." Photo taken in Count Landon's Garden 




Larbi. the original flutist of the book, 
playing his favorite love-song 



PART II.— The Garden of Count Anteoni 



The Garden 
of Allak 

PART III 

SCENE I 

In tte Desert, near Mogar 

Domini loved this life with a love 

which had already become a passion. 

All that she had imagined that the 

desert might be to her she found that 

it was. In its so-called monotony she 

discovered eternal interest. Of old 

she had thought the sea the most 

wonderful thing in Nature. In the 

desert she seemed to possess the sea 

with something added to it, a calm, 

a completeness, a mystical tenderness, 

a passionate serenity. She thought 
of the sea as a soul striving to fulfil its noblest aspirations, to be the splendid thing it knew how to dream 
of. But she thought of the desert as a soul that need to strive no more, having attained. And she, like the 
Arabs, called it always in her heart the Garden of Allah. For in this wonderful calm, bright as the child's 
idea of heaven, clear as a crystal with a sunbeam caught in it, silent as a prayer that will be answered silently, 
God seemed to draw very near to his wandering children. In the desert was the still, small voice, and 
the still, small voice was the Lord. 

SCENE II 

Tne Same 

Night had fallen over the desert, a clear purple night, starry but without a moon. Around the Bordj, 
the Arabs who were halting to sleep at Arba on their journeys to and from Beni-Mora were huddled, sipping 
coffee, playing dominoes by the faint light of an oil lamp, smoking cigarettes and long pipes of keef. Within 
the court of the Bordj the mules were feeding tranquilly in rows. The camels roamed the plain among the 
tamarisk bushes, watched over by shrouded shadowy guardians sleepless as they were. The mountains 
were lost in the darkness that lay over the desert. 







nch Arab regiment 
Touggourt 




French military 




Loading camels at market-place, Biskra, for their return to the Southern Saharan Oasis 




PART III.— Scene 2.— In the Desert at Mogar 




PART IV 



Nomads in old Biskra SCENF Nomads in old Biskra 

Outside the Trappist Monastery at El Largani 

Domini lifted her face from her hands. She saw before her a great door which stood open. Above it 
was a statue of the Madonna and Child, and on either side were two angels with swords and stars. Under- 
neath was written, in great letters: 

JANUA COELl. 

Beyond, through the doorway, she saw an open space upon which the sunlight streamed, three palm 
trees, and a second door which was shut. Above this second door was written: 

"Les dames n'entrent pas ici." 

As she looked the figure of a very old monk with a long white beard shuffled slowly across the path of 
sunlight and disappeared. 




Trappist Monastery on the hill at Carthage, in background 




u 




PART IV. — Outside the Trappist Monastery at El Largani. near Tunis 



Xhe Garden 
of A 1 1 a k \ 

THE EPILOGUE 



SCENE 

Xne Edge or the Garaen 
of Count Anteoni 



It was noon in the desert. 
The voice of the Mueddin died 
away in the minaret, and the golden 
silence that comes out of the heart 
of the sun sank down once more softly 
over everything. Nature seemed un- 
naturally still in the heat. The slight 
winds were not at play, and the palms of Beni-Mora stood motionless as palm-trees in a dream. The day 
was like a dream, intense and passionate, yet touched with something unearthly, something almost spiritual. 
In the cloudless blue of the sky there seemed a magical depth, regions of color infinitely prolonged. In the 
vision of the distances, where desert blent with sky, earth surely curving up to meet the downward curving 
heaven, the dimness was like a voice whispering strange petitions. The ranges of mountains slept in the 
burning sand, and the light slept in their clefts like the languid in cool places. For there was a glorious 
languor even in the light, as if the sun were faintly oppressed by the marvel of his power. In the oasis 
of Beni-Mora, men, who had slowly roused themselves to pray, sank down to sleep again in the warm 
twilight of shrouded gardens or the warm night of windowless rooms. 





Count Landon's 



; garde 



of Count Landon'i 



"And always, when night falls, she sees the form of a man praying, who once fled from prayer in the 
desert; she sees a wanderer who has at last reached his home." 

THE END 




Home of "le petit chien bleu" (The Little Blue Dog), Count Landon's house, covered with blooming bougainvillea 



1911 




1. People in line to buy seats for "The Garden of 
Allah." at the Century Theatre. New York City. 

2. Camels at Biskra market. 

3. Bargaining with Arab collector at the ruins of 
Carthage for accessories purchased for the play. 

4. Preparing to leave B.skra for the sand dunes 
nearTouggourt. 

5. Women of old Biskra. 

6. Caravan from the south passing through Biskra. 

7. The desert expedition arrives at Phillippeville. 



8. Unloading car from "The VilleD'Oran" at Phil- 
lippeville, Algeria. 

9. A street arcade. Biskra (Mr. Hichens. fore- 
ground figure). 

10. Mounted Spahi officer. 

11. Larbi and Psalti in Fumoir. Count Landons 
Garden. 

12. Psafti.who guided the producing party's auto 
through part of the desert trip. 

13. Loading camels at Biskra. 



14. Fumoir, Count Landons Garden. 

I 5. Nomads on the way to Biskra market. 

16. Wall in Count Landons garden. 

17. The Sand Diviner. 

1 8. Arab children begging for sous. 

\9. Fruit and nut sellers. Biskra. 

20. Leaving Phillippeville ( the Robertville of the 
book where Domini landed in Africal for the 
trip through the desert to Biskra, (the Beni- 
Moraof thebook). 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 
DEC 26 Jsn 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



001 347 456 4 



